I was in the pub the other night with a few friends after a particularly strenuous rock climbing session when my friend Sebastian told me to close my eyes.
Among his other talents, my father is a talented storyteller. So talented, in fact, that after countless bedtime stories, I would toss and turn in my bed, conjuring up all sorts of terrifying...
Last night, I dreamed of him again. My siblings and I were sitting on the sand at Waihi Beach, squabbling over our picnic lunch, and boasting of the waves we were going to catch. John was to my...
In a rebuttal to a previous article , Emeritus Prof Olssen accuses me of making ''specious'' claims about the legacy and character of Captain James Cook.
I was wandering aimlessly around the airport on Tuesday morning, after arriving horrifically early for my flight, when I chanced upon a brightly coloured children's picture book.
Every morning, shortly after waking, I carefully press out two yellow and green pills from their silver foil and pop them in my mouth. I swallow them with a mouthful of coffee, and then go about my...
I was scrolling through Facebook, as is my wont, when I came across a video of the inimitable Jacinda Ardern, signing out a greeting in New Zealand Sign Language (NZSL).
I thought I knew what grief was like. It was constant tears, a blotchy face, days spent in bed, a wistful longing for the dead. It was gliding mournfully around the house, lilies at a funeral,...
Almost two weeks have passed since an evil man entered a holy place and took the lives of 50 innocent people. Instead of penning one of my usual columns, today’s article is devoted to two of my...